


The Same

by bathandbodyworks



Series: Mistakes [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bruce Wayne’s A+ Parenting, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Swearing, wow we love sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21809083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bathandbodyworks/pseuds/bathandbodyworks
Summary: “No you fucking don’t,” Dick says, and he feels angry. Angrier than he has in a long time. “It’s not his to give away, and it’s not yours to have. Robin isdead.”-Dick’s pretty sure he hates Bruce, but Jason only complicates things.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: Mistakes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571494
Comments: 9
Kudos: 120





	The Same

**Author's Note:**

> there is a first part, but u don’t really need to read that to read this. although it couldn’t hurt 🤪
> 
> OH i wanted to add more little pieces to this and make it longer, but i guess i didn’t lmao
> 
> working title: plz jason is begging u

Dick looks through the peephole of his apartment door. He can just barely make out the vague shape of a preteen boy, the glass in the peephole so dirty and distorted. Distantly, he thinks he should probably get that replaced. 

He opens the door to his apartment, swinging it out and letting it just barely hit the wall.

The new boy stands in front of him, unflinching.

“You’re him?” Dick says, and it’s more callous than he means. 

The boy stares. His eyes are hard, like diamonds and some sick sort of green-tinted glass, and they lock on Dick’s. 

Dick looks down. The boy snorts.

“Yeah, I’m him. And you’re Dick.”

Dick looks up, only the littlest bit surprised. He didn’t think Bruce would talk much about him. But he also knows Bruce would never let anything less than the smartest into the manor, especially after the mistake he was. 

“Yeah,” he says, and he keeps staring. “And you’re Jason.”

Dick swivels his head out into the hallway, looking for Alfred or Bruce. They’re alone. 

Dick takes a step towards Jason, and Jason looks him up and down, crossing his arms. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Dick looks towards the doorway. “Shut up for a second,” he says, voice low but still too loud for his own ears. 

“What?” Jason says, more confused than angry but the rage still seeps into his words, and Dick thinks that Jason might be exactly what Bruce has always wanted, and Dick is _scared._

“Get in here,” he says, reaching for Jason’s arm, but Jason pulls it back, disgust and something else on his face, and they both recoil. 

“Fuck no, I don’t fucking know you,” Jason says, looking over Dick to look into his apartment. 

Jason sees the mess, the chinese takeout boxes on the counter, the clothes haphazardly tossed across the floor, the dishes stacked around the sink, and the million other little messes he has that all add up. Jason sees the size, so much smaller than the impossibly immense Wayne Manor, and Jason sees the _tired_ in Dick, how he constantly looks like he could fall over and die right there. 

“Just get in the apartment,” Dick says, because Jason wouldn’t be here if he didn’t already know who Dick was. 

Jason looks up Dick, almost snarls, and steps in, and Dick closes the door as quickly as he can. Dick sighs a breath of relief. 

Jason keeps glancing around the apartment. His eyes linger over a particularly hideous section of the couch where an empty apple juice container sits open on top of a pizza carton, still caked with molten cheese. 

Jason turns to him. “This is fucking gross.” 

Dick moves towards his mini fridge. “Thanks,” he says, apathy slipping into his voice for the first time since Jason arrived. He crouches down, putting a hand on the handle, and closes his eyes for just a moment to breathe and let himself think. He just needs to _think._

Jason is here for a reason. He has to be, obviously. He’s just not sure which one. He could ask, but he doubts that will get a straight answer. He’s pretty sure Bruce or Alfred would never take him here, so he’s betting Jason just wanted to  
meet him. 

The _why?_ hangs over his head like a sword. Did Bruce talk about him? Did Jason find hidden mementos of him in the manor?

Is it about Robin?

The thought feels like acid. He doesn’t want anyone else suffering through what he did. Especially not this twelve year old boy, who is so obviously angry and headstrong and most likely even more desperate for affection and warmth than he is. 

Dick pulls a ginger ale out of his fridge. The door to it clangs shut. 

He throws it through the air, and Jason barely even pays attention as he catches it with one hand, his eyes staring out the one open window in Dick’s apartment. 

“Bludhaven’s weird,” Jason says, cracking open the soda, and Dick almost agrees. 

Dick can see a car parked in the visible alley, there for as long as Dick has lived in this apartment, and the bumper hangs off and the red paint chips. The bulb on the front looks as if it would flicker if it was ever on. 

The city he sees out the window is dirty gray and musty blue. Dick’s not sure if the buildings and the sky tint the inhabitants that dull color, or if it’s the other way around. 

Dick looks away. 

“I’m sorry,” Dick says, and Jason turns, setting down his coke.

“For what?” There’s almost an accusation in his words, and it reminds him so much of Bruce that Dick’s heart beats faster.

“For what’s happened,” he says, softer than he means, and Jason looks so confused Dick could cry. 

“What the fuck has happened?” Jason asks, eyebrows tilting and head shaking slightly. 

Dick sits down. “Bruce,” he says, and he can’t force himself to elaborate. It’s been two years, and he still thinks about the man every day. 

Bruce plagues his thoughts like flies, invasive and gross and everywhere he doesn’t want them. His childhood is as comforting as a knife through the heart, and Dick hates, hates, _hates_ him for ruining what could of been beautiful. 

“What about Bruce?” Jason says, and his voice feels more comforting and curious than anything else he’s said so far. Jason looks over where Dick’s sitting and sits down on the opposite end of the couch, thigh pressed up against the thick arm rest. 

Dick sighs, slow and languid and shaky. Something heavy builds in his throat and Dick swallows it, and swallows it again, and moves his tongue along his teeth. 

His eyes feel warm, and he bites on his lip, and he swallows, again and again. Words won’t come out. 

“Dick?” Jason says, twisting his own hands. Dick can’t help but think Jason’s uncomfortable with his display of anxiety. 

Dick stands up, almost tilting at the speed. “Never-mind,” he spits out hastily, as kindly as he can, and he flinches when Jason reaches toward him. 

“What the fuck,” Jason almost whispers, and Dick agrees, because he’s feels weird and awkward and empty and he wishes he could just vanish into nothing. 

“I said never mind,” Dick says, and Jason’s mouth and eyes go wide and Dick suddenly remembers that Jason is _twelve_ and too young for this. 

Jason stands up and fists his hand. “Okay, fucking don’t bring it up then,” he says, and Dick can’t do this anymore. 

“Jason,” he says, voice begging and pleading, so slimy and otherworldly, hands splayed in front of him, “stay away from him. I’m fucking begging you, you need to stay away.” Words spill out of his mouth like his brain runs on an uncontrollable motor. “He’s not– he’s not, just please don’t stay with him. You can stay with me, or with literally anyone else, or– or I know some people who would take you in, you just, you can’t–“

“What the fuck,” Jason says, and Dick realizes he’s crying through his words as tears drip down his own face. “You’re so fucking– so fucking weird.”

The motor in his brain turns off with a distant click, and Dick can’t even think. 

“Bruce is nice to me, nicer than literally anyone else in this shitty fucking world. He’s the only person that hasn’t treated me like I’m dog shit,” Jason says, almost growling and voice loud, and Dick knows that this is a dream, a nightmare, not real. 

“He’s not–“

“You’re lying,” Jason says, pointing a finger at him, and Dick feels the words stab him. “You’re just mad he kicked you out, and you’re mad cause I replaced you.”

“That’s not–“

“And I’m not fucking sorry. For the first time in my entire fucking life I have someone who cares about me and helps me, and you’re just mad cause you can’t be Robin.” 

Dick doesn’t know what to say. The thought of Bruce changing, of being better and kinder, is so distant a thought in his mind if barely even registers. 

“Robin?” Dick says. The air feels stale and still and silence rings around the room. “You’re Robin?”

“Someone has to be.”

“No you fucking don’t,” Dick says, and he feels _angry_. Angrier than he has in a long time. “It’s not his to give away, and it’s not yours to have. Robin is _dead.”_

Jason scoffs. “Apparently he’s not, cause I’m standing right fucking here.”

Dick’s fists clench, his nail digging into his palm. The pain is ignored. “Robin is gone. Robin doesn’t exist. Robins try to fly and they _die._ ”

Jason moves towards the door, face twisting as he almost steps on Dick’s clothes. “Maybe they did when you were him. But now I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Jason,” Dick says, voice shaking, “I don’t know what he’s done to you, but–“

“Nothing!” Jason screams, and the walls shake and Dick feels a tinge of sympathy for his neighbors. “Fucking nothing! He’s nice, and he gives me stuff, and sometimes he gets angry but that’s it!”

Dick can’t breathe. He tries, he’s so angry it seethes within him, but he keeps his voice low for Jason’s sake. He can’t get over how young Jason is. 

“And what happens when he gets angry,” Dick asks but almost states, and he prays and hopes he’s wrong but he knows he’s not. 

“It doesn’t even hurt that bad, okay? Is that what you wanted? You fucking happy? You like knowing he hits me sometimes?” 

Jason stands by his front door, 5 foot nothing and so vulnerable and lost inside that Dick’s heart aches like if never ached for himself. Jason’s hair is ragged and his face is red, and Dick wonders if he ever looked the same. 

“Jason, that’s not– that’s not right, parents are supposed to be–“

“He’s better than my parents, and he’s fucking better than you!”

Jason growls, his teeth bared and yellow and frothy, and Dick backs up. He hates himself and he hates Bruce, and he doesn’t want to hate Jason but if the boy stays with Bruce he knows he will. 

“Look, Jason–“

Jason cuts him off again. “I’m leaving. I shouldn’t have fucking come here and I hope you rot in fucking hell or something.” 

Jason stomps to the door and slams it closed, and wood chips off the frame. Dick hears the footsteps pound away, and Dick wishes he knew what to do. 

It almost feels like things never really change.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!! feel free to leave comments and/or kudos :)
> 
> ALSO i’ll probably write more in this little universe (cause it’s fun), probably between Dick leaving and Jason arriving, so idk do with that information what u will


End file.
